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Texas and Tarantulas

Book Description Click to toggle

You never know what you’ll find in south Texas—or what will find you.

Trent Jacek doesn’t want too much—to live on the ranch his brother owns, a few puppies to keep him company in his trailer, maybe a good man if he can find one. First he has to catch a break long enough to try. Things just aren’t slowing down on the Jacek ranch. They’ve got a barn to rebuild, and their plan to get a pack of shifter wolves off their back doesn’t seem to be working.

Then there’s the matter of the bones the police are looking for on the ranch. After a greyed, old femur was left on the porch, Trent and his brother Joe are forced to confront some things they’d never expected to. Is that solitary bone from their mother, who went missing over twenty years ago? If so, how did she end up there? If not, who is dumping people on the ranch?

Trent’s been having the strangest dreams since he’s seen that femur but can’t imagine they’re more than just dreams. He doesn’t have a lot of time to worry about them between shifter attacks, a nosy biologist and neighbours coming by to snoop.

What Trent doesn’t know is someone has put an assassin on his tail, but it’s the assassin who will come to question everything he’s been told once he meets the vibrant, sexy man he’s been sent to kill.

Publisher's Note: This book is the sequel to Dark Nights and Headlights by Bailey Bradford.

General Release Date: 3rd October 2014

Excerpt Click to toggle

Trent Jacek groaned as he opened his eyes. “Damn,” he muttered. He was sore as hell after spending the prior day fighting werewolves, of all things. If he hadn’t known of their existence for a few weeks now, he’d have thought he dreamed it all. And if he didn’t ache all over.

“This is what I get for fighting the good fight?” he asked no one, seeing as how he was alone. If anyone found out how often he talked to himself, he’d likely be carted off to a psychiatrist. There was nothing wrong with talking to yourself, he figured. It beat the silence and made him feel less alone…but more pathetic.

He got out of bed, griping and grumbling. A hot shower, some hotter coffee, and a few ibuprofen. That’s what he needed then he might feel more like a human being than a punching bag.

He hadn’t really taken any hits yesterday, but he was still sore. The running, ducking, and being tense as hell because he thought he or someone he cared about was going to get their throat ripped out—those things were why he ached.

In the shower, he washed quickly before leaning against the wall and letting the water pelt his back and shoulders. It wasn’t anywhere near as good as a massage. Imagining hands on him only made him kind of horny. How long had it been since he’d gotten laid? Oh yeah. About a year.

“It’s a miracle you haven’t fallen off, buddy,” he said as he began to stroke his dick. He had a flash of an image that was good until he realized he was picturing Diego’s bare ass. Since Diego was his brother’s boyfriend and a wolf shifter to boot, he was way, way off limits. “That’s gross, too.” Not Diego. He was a sexy little thing. Trent liked to irritate his brother Joe by flirting with Diego, but he didn’t want to do Diego. He supposed he’d just imagined him because he’d seen Diego naked a few times lately while the guy shifted forms.

Trent concentrated on one of his favorite porn stars. Big, hairy, rough and kind of on the ugly side—really, the guy did it for Trent. He didn’t like pretty men or even handsome ones. Give him rough and real any day.

“Yeah,” he murmured, thinking of how good it’d feel to push that big man down and slide his cock into a tight, tight hole. Mouth or ass, either would be fantastic. Trent jacked himself faster, eyes closing, breath coming in pants. To shove in to the hilt, have his balls slap against another man’s—that’d be heaven.

He moaned and held his cock tighter. “Come on. Come on,” he urged, picturing it, him ramming in over and over, the man beneath him writhing, begging. Trent pinched his own nipple, and it added a spark that fed the fire of his need.

Another thrust, a twist of his wrist, and his arousal spiked into a giant burst of pleasure. Whether he cursed or shouted, he couldn’t have said. He was shaking and weak, ready to go back to bed when his climax ended.

Bed wasn’t a choice. Their barn had been burned down yesterday, thanks to the fucking werewolves that had come to try and take Diego back to his former pack. There was a lot of work needing to be done over the next several weeks. Building a new barn was one of those things.

He rinsed again and told himself to quit lollygagging around. Ten minutes later, he was dressed and out of the door, carrying his coffee in one hand and a shotgun in the other. Just because the werewolves they’d left alive had said they wouldn’t come back, didn’t mean they were telling the truth.

Trent drove over to his brother’s place—his brother and Diego’s place, he corrected. The family home Trent had grown up in now belonged to Joe and Diego. That might be a new relationship, but Trent had known from the first day he’d seen Diego jumping out of Joe’s bedroom window—although not right at that instant—that those two would end up all happy forever. He’d be ribbing Joe about that every chance he got. Probably Diego, too, because the guy blushed so easily.

Yeah, he could be an asshole sometimes. Trent knew himself well.

The sun was just starting to rise when he let himself into the house. Joe and Diego weren’t in the kitchen yet. They would be, soon. The coffee had brewed thanks to the automatic timer on the pot. The smell of it was possibly Trent’s favorite aroma. Next to a sexy man. A little sweat, some of that musky—

“Trent? Is that you?”

“Nah, Joe, it’s a murderer come sneaking in just to holler out a warning to you.” Trent chuckled as his brother hollered back for him to fuck off.

“We got a barn to build,” Trent reminded him. “No time for fucking if you haven’t already got some.” He opened the fridge and spied the makings for a good breakfast. “You two aren’t in here by the time the bacon’s fried, I’m eating it all. And drinking the coffee.”

“Jackass,” Joe said as he walked into the kitchen.

Trent turned with his hands full of foods to prepare and burst out laughing. “Jesus, bub. Your hair is standing up every which way. Must have been a fun night.”

“And morning,” Joe said smugly.

That shut Trent up for all of a minute. He got two skillets on the stove’s burners then poured some oil into the one he’d use for eggs. “Well, well. Bragging is a sin, isn’t it? So is lying.”

“He’s not lying.”

Trent glanced over at Diego, who’d snuck right in on those silent feet. Trent would swear they had magic noise muffling abilities. Diego could sneak like no one else.

About the author Click to toggle

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn't happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey's brain demanding to be let out.

Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey's office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey's presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

Reviews (6) Click to toggle

Reviewed by MM Good Book Reviews

Along the way, Trent and Mahon fall in love amid fighting against bear shifters, wolves and an annoying biologist. I really enjoyed reading this wonderfully written story. It had drama, action, love,...

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News (2) Click to toggle

Bailey Bradford - Divine Magazine featured author

Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn't happen much. Writing istoo much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey's brain demanding to be let out.

• Rufus Wainright hooked me with his rendition ofLeonard Cohen's Hallelujah. He has so many songs that I love, and I can't wait to see him in concert again in November. He's so much fun to watch live, and his voice is beautiful. My mother, bestie Cherri, and youngest daughter will be going with me to see Rufus this time, and we're going to be those loud fangirls that every concert needs to have.